BEHIND HIGH HEDGES
My boundaries are not defined
by gender,
or by age,
but by hedges,
the perfect definition of edges.
This then is my domain,
my place to write,
a place of personal reflection
and tounge-in-cheek confection.
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Flyntland
Thu 9th Jan 2025 11:47
Many thanks to RBK, Hugh, Holden, and K Lynn Bret for reading and liking my unassuming little poem.
I love my bird-chattering high hedges—they are a far cry from the streets where I used to play (DIPLOMATIC RETREAT). I am amazed at the variety of birds that tumble out of them and make their way to the bird feeders. There are times when I am severely scolded by their angry little voices when I refill the seed hoppers.
What's not to love?